


No Prince Charming

by mynameisginster



Series: Storybrooke Verse [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Character Development, Developing Relationship, F/M, Introspection, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:49:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisginster/pseuds/mynameisginster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumplestiltskin knows that he is a difficult man to love. Belle knows that as well. But if True Love was easy, everyone would have it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Prince Charming

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [No Knight In Shining Armour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1194891) by [mynameisginster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisginster/pseuds/mynameisginster). 



> This fic is written from Belle's POV, but because I enjoyed it so much, I wrote a remix from Rum'd POV. You should go and check it out, it's called 'No Knight In Shining Armour'. It doesn't really matter which one you read first, but this one was the original. Enjoy!

“I'm afraid I have to cancel our meeting, sweetheart. There have been some problems with due rents, and there is a lot of paperwork to do... I won't bore you with the details. But I just can't afford to go out today. I'll only have the time to grab a quick bite in between”, Rumplestiltskins voice informed her through her mobile phone. She thought that his voice sounded strange, uncaring, even a bit cold. Belle wanted to believe it was only because she was still getting used to talking to someone who wasn't technically there.  
  
“Oh. Okay. Maybe tomorrow?”  
  
“I can't promise anything”, he answered in that same monotone voice. She didn't answer for a moment, a lump forming in her throat.  
  
“Belle?”, he asked when she didn't answer. Swallowing, she answered in a small voice.  
  
“It's alright. I know how busy you are. I was just really looking forward to seeing you”, she confessed.  
  
He was silent for a moment, and when he answered, his voice finally sounded a bit more like himself again.  
  
“I'm sorry, Belle”, and then, composed again, “ we'll talk tomorrow. Why don't you go and read a book or meet Ruby. I have to go now. Goodbye”  
  
Her weak “Goodbye” was met by the beeping sound of his phone ending the call.  
  
Belle was sure that even though she had spend nearly three decades locked away, she had never felt more awful. She had no idea what was happening, but over the last two weeks Rumplestiltskin gradually had started pulling away from her.  
  
At first he had only started to be a bit more silent, not listening as intently as before. Belle hadn't thought anything about it; with magic and memories back in Storybrooke, he was prone to be preoccupied.  
  
So she hadn't payed it any mind when he hadn't had as much time to try and finally succeed in having an uninterrupted date. She had tried not to feel too let down when he had cancelled their date for the first time. It had been harder with everytime he did. This was the fourth meeting he had postponed.  
  
Belle tried to remember when everything had started, but she usually found it hard to make sense of the past weeks since she had been released. Not only had she been overwhelmed by a world that was suddenly full of sensations again, but also a world she wasn't familiar with. As the only one who had not been supplied with a cursed life and personality, Belle had to learn everything on her own, from using the shower to driving a car.  
  
So Belle had no clue what was happening. All that she knew was that Rumplestiltskin seemed to be avoiding her. Even she could only rationalise his behaviour so much. At first she had thought that maybe he was unsure of how to approach their new relationship. That he was not certain how far he was allowed to approach her, now that she had moved out of his manor.  
  
Although she trusted him to become a better person, Belle wasn't completely naïve. She knew that it would be a tough journey until they could be happy together. Rumplestiltskin had not been wrong when he had told her all those years ago that he was a difficult man to love.  
  
But her decision to move into the flat above the library wasn't only motivated by his actions, but also by her desire to be independent. She had feared that maybe he thought that she was walking away from him, rather than towards herself. So she had tried to put a lot of effort in their “dates”, to show him that he was still so very important to her, and told him of how well she was doing, hoping that he would see how greatly her small successes pleased her, and understand that they were the reason she had to be on her own for some time. That she had left to find her own footing in this world, to become her own person rather than just being Rumplestiltskins True Love.  
  
 _If I actually am his_ _T_ _rue_ _Lo_ _ve.  
  
_ At that Belle teared up. She had never cried easily, nor had she ever been prone to wallow in self-pity. She tried to chase the thought away, but recently, with Rumple behaving like he did, she sometimes couldn't help it.  
  
It was silly; she _knew_ that she was his True Love, just like he was hers, had seen his curse flee from a brush of her lips that hadn't even been a proper kiss. But when she had seen him in the woods, after she had gotten her memories back, and had seen his human face, for a moment there she had thought someone else had broken his curse. Of course he had explained to her later that he wasn't technically cursed in this land, and that his curse still held fast. But in that moment in the woods, Belle had encountered jealousy and doubt for the first time.

Back then on this first evening, when she had voiced her fears, voice still rough from lack of use, Rumplestiltskin had assured her of his love, his devotion; first with words, then with fingers and tongue and teeth, with kisses and touches that had led to their first night together.  
  
Belle's stomach twisted with anguish. Now there was no Rumplestiltskin to console her, to kiss her, and the hurt left her breathless. When he had thrown her out of his castle her heart had been broken. She had thought she might die from the pain of it, but she had also been filled with anger and determination. After all, she had known that he loved her.  
  
Now she wasn't as sure, and she felt like her heart wasn't breaking, but simply dissolving.  
  
He might be difficult to love, but love him she did; loved his gentle soul, his wicked humour, his tragedy, even his darkness. She missed his voice, his smell, his touch, missed their newfound intimacy- not only their lovemaking, which had turned out to be a whole new world full of Rumple and joy, but also the new dynamic of their relationship that they had found here.  
  
He had told her about his son, had finally told her the truth, and she had thought that things would get better now. Not well maybe, but.. better. And then he seemed to lose interest in her.  
It wasn't like he had made any progress in finding Bae, he just didn't want to see her anymore.  
  
A dry sob shook her, and she clenched her fists and bit her lip. No, she would not cry. Crying would not help her.  
  
 _Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.  
  
_ That calmed her down a bit. Taking a deep breath, Belle reminded herself that she wasn't a victim anymore. She had decided to be her own person, and not only a pawn in some bigger game.  
She would not hide and cry. If Rumplestiltskin didn't want to see her any longer, he would have to say it to her face, even if it would kill her. But it was better to know than to torture herself with her thoughts. Even if she was not his True Love, he was hers, and she would not let him go without a fight.  
  
 _If you find something that's worth fighting for, you never give up.  
  
_ Smiling a bit, Belle remembered the advice Mulan had given her so long ago.  
  
Yes, Belle would fight.  
  


 

xxx

 

Fear pooling in her stomach, Belle forced herself to raise her hand and knock on the door. She winced at the noise it made in the silence of the early evening.

_Do the brave thing and bravery will follow._

Belle took a deep breath and wrapped her coat thighter around her shivering form. She wasn't sure if it was the cold that made her shiver, or her nerves.

The faint tapping of his cane made her jump a bit.

The door opened, and when he recognized her, his grim expression softened with surprise, and what she hoped was love. Then he closed himself off again.

“Belle. I thought you were going to meet Ruby or do something else. I told you I have no time tonight.”

 _The brave thing,_ she reminded herself.

She smiled up at him and lifted a brown paperbag for him to see.

“You said you had no time to go and get dinner, so I thought I'd bring dinner to you. It's grilled cheese from Granny's- they even had avocado” she chirped, cheerier than she actually felt.

He stared at her, his face unfathomable. Belle decided to shoulder on- quite literally. Without leaving him a chance, she slightly pushed him out of the way and brushed past him. She didn't stop in the hall but went straight into the kitchen instead, hoping that it would stop him from sending her away immediately. She was getting plates out of his cupboard when he stepped into the kitchen. He looked like he wanted to say something, so she quickly started talking again while she put the food on their plates.

“Well, you said you only had time to grab a bite in between. So I thought you'd like to take a little break and enjoy a grilled-cheese with me. I even brought iced tea..”  
Turning around, Belle fell silent when she saw the look on his face. He looked conflicted, as torn as she felt. Their eyes locked for a moment. Then he sighed, his shoulders sagging.

“Fine. I think a short break won't hurt.”

Belle breathed out relieved. It was a small triumph, but a triumph all the same.

“Thank you”, she smiled at him.

He didn't look convinced. Then he nodded towards her.

“Are you going to wear this all evening?”

“Oh..”

Now came the more difficult part. Belle looked at his outstreched hand and bit her lip. Then she turned her back towards him, opened her coat and let it slip from her shoulders.

The choking sound he made helped a lot to ease away her self-conciousness. Belle was no expert in seduction, so she had tried not to overdo it and look silly. Therefore she had picked a beige skirt that she usually wore to work, ending above her knees and all in all proper, only the nude high heels kept it from looking boring.  
Instead of a blouse though she wore a satin top that flowed lightly around her upper body. The small straps and the cut set off her figure nicely, and the colour, a soft cream, managed to make her skin look healthier than it normally did. What had made him gasp though was the big cut that left most of her back bare for him to see, showing him the mole on her lower back that he had stroked several times. She wore a long, delicate gold chain around her neck, because she liked the symbolism of being chained by gold, but instead of letting it rest between her breasts, she had decided to let it flow over her back, emphazising the lack of a bra. Her hair was tamed in a braid that rested on her right shoulder, ensuring that he could get a good look.

After a second he took her coat without saying anything. Belle struggled to fight down her blush. When he came back, he eyed her warily, and kept his eyes firmly on her face. Trying not feel disappointed, Belle turned around and grabbed the tray with their food on it.

  
“Why don't we have these in the living room?”, she asked, alreading walking away, leaving him no choice but to follow her.  
  
After they both sat down, silence settled over them. Belle took a bite of her sandwich, desperately trying to find something to dispell the unease between them. This was so new for her- it hat never been awkward between them, not even when she had just arrived at the Dark Castle. There had always been something between them, sometimes anger, sometimes frustration, occasionally even fear, mostly tension, tentative friendship and later love. Even when they had found each other again and hadn't known how to tread with each other, they had never been so uncertain and distanced.  
  
“Have you made any progress today?”, she asked him. Both knew that she was not talking about his work; Belle understood little of that. She meant his quest for Bae. Usually it got him talking even in his blackest moods. Today, not even that seemed to work.  
  
“Actually I had other things to do. I planned to work on it later today”, he said, and then, after a second: “I'll get to it once you're gone.”  
  
Belle choked on her tea, her skin burning as if he had physically struck her with those words.  
  
“I hadn't realised I was keeping you from something”, she said.  
  
He looked down on his hands before he said: “ Well, I thought I had made that clear.”  
  
Gasping, she jumped up. “Well, I'm sorry I bothered you. You could have just said that I am not welcome, instead of behaving like an utter arse!” , she growled, getting louder with each word. Fear and anger boiled in her, making her lose her focus. Rumple's eyes grew slightly larger at her anger, and probably her choice of words. It was uncommon for her to curse, or to get upset. A tiny part of her brain registered how liberating it was to simply let herself be angry.  
  
He stood up, tentatively reaching out a hand, muttering her name while his face looked like he was in pain. Ashamed she noticed that she was partly glad that she wasn't the only one that was hurting.  
  
“Don't bother”, she said, and stepped away from his hand. A minute ago she would have given anything to have him reach out for her, but now she felt like she was suffocating. Her body was made of pain, and she had to get away from him. Belle turned and ran out of the house, not bothering to take her coat with her.  


 

xxx

  
Again, Belle found herself wandering through town after a fight with Rumplestiltskin. After a couple of minutes Belle looked up to see where she was going. She had been so consumed by anger and grief and had tried so hard not to let the pain win and cause her to simply sit down and cry, that she hadn't payed attention to where she was going. Belle looked around, trying to get an idea of where she was, but she found that she had not the slightest idea. Surrounding her were small houses- at least compared to Rumplestiltskin's extensive home. All looked similar, and only in some she could see lights. Only now she realised that it was already quite late, the sky almost completely dark. Belle decided that she would turn back, and try to find the main road again, and then she would go back to the library to.. to what, she had no idea.  
  
Belle bit her lip as that thought brought a new wave of pain with it.  
  
 _I'll be okay. I've survived without him once. I'll survive without him again,_ she tried to reassure herself.

 And it was true. As much as it had hurt when they had lost each other, Belle had managed to live on. Had even had happy moments. Yes, she had left her heart behind with him. But she had managed to move on, and had not let it break her.  
  
But deep down, Belle knew that it would not be that easy. Rumplestiltskin might not be the only source of happiness in her life- after all, she had been quite happy before she met him- but that he still was a source of happiness she had not dared to hope for and didn't want to lose now that she had found him.  
  
A sob escaped her, shaking her body, closly followed by a gust of wind that made her shiver and her teeth start to chatter. Looking down, Belle realised that she had forgotten her coat at his house. Before, her anger had kept her warm, but now that it faded she was freezing in the autumn breeze, her top and lack of underwear doing little to protect her from the cold air.  
  
Now she felt so silly, so foolish regarding her hopes to seduce him. He probably was laughing about her naiveté. Clutching her arms in front of her chest, partly to keep out the breeze, partly to keep out the embarrassment, Belle shouldered on through the night.  
  
By now her feet were hurting, and she cursed herself for wearing heels at all. When she had first encountered them, she had been fascinated by them, had liked the height it added to her more than short 5''4'', and later the effect she had found they had on Rumple. Now, she all but wanted to throw them away into the bushes. The only thing restraining her was the thought that the cold ground would not help with her shivering.  
  
The gold chain whipped her back with every step she took. By now the metal was ice cold and her skin hurt, but she didn't take it off. She liked this symbolism as well.  
  
Belle turned around a corner and found herself on his road. Down the street she could vaguely see his house. From here she new where to go, but as she started towards home she remembered that she had not only left her coat, but also her keys inside it's pockets. There were only two choices for her; go to him, get her coat and go home, or spend the night outside. Only one of them was considerable.  
  
Turning around she went to the nearest bench and sat down.  
  
She rubbed her ankles and the soles of her feet, and tried to keep herself together. By now she was shivering violently, her teeth chattering so loud that it was the only thing she could hear. She felt sick from the anguish twisting in her stomach, felt like it was consuming her. Without wanting to, Belle started to cry.  
  
For long minutes, she just let the tears fall, burrying her face in her hands, and cried for her lost love. Only when her head started to hurt and her throat was dry from the hiccup that had started to plague her did she stop.  
  
When another gust of wind brushed over her, Belle decided that she couldn't stay were she was. Every cell in her body was aching, either from her heels, her tears, from the cold, and then all over again because of her heart. As much as she did not want to do it, she would have to get her keys.  
  
So she picked herself up, and started down the road. She was still fighting her hiccup when his house came in sight. Suddenly her goosebmps had nothing to do with the temperature. Just the thought of seeing him now made her shiver. Shocked, she realised that she was afraid. Afraid of the things that might come, afraid of hurting even more, even if she thought that to be impossible.  
  
  
Steeling herself, Belle started to walk towards his house, freezing mid-motion when the door suddenly opened and Rumplestiltskin appeared. He closed the door and hurried towards his car, his whole body tense and his left hand clenched into a fist. She thought that something was missing, but she couldn't pinpoint what. At first she thought he was coming towards her, but then she realised that he hadn't seen her where she stood on the street.  
  
Rumplestiltskin was fumbling with the keys for a bit, and then, so suddenly that Belle gasped, he hit the roof of the car with his fist. At her involuntary sound, his head shot up, looking around until he spotted her in the shadows. When he looked at her, his face looked as if he was in pain.  
  
“Belle.”  
  
She took a deep breath and a step forward, into the light of the streetlight. When he saw her, he flinched slightly. Belle tried to swallow to do something against her dry throat.  
  
“I-”, she started, her voice breaking. Swallowing, she tried again.  
  
“I forgot my coat”  
  
“I know”, he answered, voice rougher than usual, and then added : “ I was going to look for you”  
  
Belle stared at him. Sometimes she could not understand him at all. First he treats her so awfully for weeks, and then he wants to look for her when she runs away? And wasn't that just typical for him, to do what he wanted and deemed right, without thinking about the consequences for others? Suddenly her anger returned to her, and she was sick of it all.  
  
“Why bother?” she snarled, in a voice she had never used with him before. Anger was clouding her vision, and she didn't notice him flinch. Rushing past him, she stalked into the house to get her coat. He was following her, and she was suddenly, guiltily, glad that he limped now.

When she looked for her coat on the rack in the hall, her heel caught the edge of a carpet, and she nearly fell. Cursing like she had never before, she ripped her shoes from her feet and threw them into a corner. It wasn't like she needed them any longer. There was no sign of her coat.  
  
Anger still racing through her, she stalked into the living room just as he stepped into sight. He called out a warning, but she was beyond caring. Fury and anguish rushed through her veins, and she found the sensation equally terrifying and liberating. It wasn't like she hadn't been upset before, but she had never been _angry.  
  
_ Her coat was hanging over the couch, which puzzled her, because she was sure he had hung it up earlier, but she was too preoccupied to think about it.

 

When she stepped around the couch a sharp pain shot through her feet, but she didn't mind it. After all the time she had walked in those heels, her feet were bound to hurt. Gritting her teeth she grabbed her coat and turned around.  
  
Rumplestiltskin stood inside the doorway and stared at her incredulously. It was a grotesque reminder of the way they had parted all those years ago, one furious, one incredulous, only that this time the roles were reversed. But still, he was the one sending her away, and still she was the one leaving. A sob burst through her lips, and he flinched. He raised his hands, as if to beckon her closer, and said:  
  
“Belle. Belle, your feet, you have to-”  
  
She clutched her coat to her chest and hissed: “I have to do nothing. You're _not_ telling me what to do, Rumplestiltskin.”  
  
When she tried to walk past him, he caught her arm, trying to get her to stay.  
  
“No Belle, let me take care of-”, he pleaded, but she interrupted him.  
  
“Fuck off.”  
  
While she got a little adrenaline rush from saying such a thing, he paled visibly and let her arm go. Looking down, he murmured:  
  
“I'm sorry Belle.”  
  
Without answering, she left.  
  
Outside, she shrugged into her coat and started to run. But after a few steps the pain in her feet got unbearable, and she had to stop. Clutching a car, she raised her foot, gasping in shock when she saw that her sole was covered in blood. Between the red drops, she could see something glistening. Glass shards. That explained the pain that had shot through her feet when she had gotten her coat.

That brought her up short. Why were there glass shards in his living room?  
  
And then a memory: another room, another time, and more shattered glass. When they had parted last time, he had given into fury and despair and smashed the spinning room into pieces. She had seen it when she left, had seen what his pain had caused him to do.  
  
And now his living room was covered in glass shards.  
  
All the anger left her at once. Belle held her breath, her mind racing. In her head, she went through the last hours, trying to objectively judge what he had done.  
  
He had been hard, uninterested and uncaring, had told her that she was taking up his time and avoided to look at her. He had shown her with his body and his words that he did not want her around.  
  
He had also looked pained and conflicted in between, had shown surprise and longing and she thought even love before he closed himself off again. He had looked at her like he always had, until he seemed to remember that he shouldn't. He had smashed at least one glass out of fury or grief or frustration. He had wanted to go after her and make sure that she was safe. He had looked as broken as she felt, and apologised.  
  
Her neck started tingling when she remembered when he had last been like this. Back then he had raged, had locked her up, had screamed and cursed, had been cold as stone and send her away. Back then he had thought that they shouldn't be together.  
  
Back then she had called him a coward, and she had went out of the door. Tody she had raged at him and done the same.  
  
But now he had no cause to act in such a way. She thought about the past weeks again and again, but she couldn't make sense of it. Belle had no idea what was happening, but she knew that something was.  
  
 _If you find something that worth fighting for, you never give up.  
  
_ Maybe he did not care for her at all anymore, and she had been right to walk away. But maybe he did, and if she walked away now, she would never be certain. She turned and went back to his frontporch.  
  
For the second time that evening, she climbed the stairs with her heart thundering in her chest. The door was still left ajar from her flight, and as much as the sight worried her, it gave her hope as well. If he hadn't bothered to follow her and close the door behind her for a final time, then it possibly meant that he did not want to, or possibly even was too shaken to move.  
  
Belle held onto her hope and her anger, and stepped into the hallway.  
  
And indeed, he still stood in the doorway where she had left him a few minutes ago, shoulders sagged and head lowered. She suspected that he hadn't heard her enter, because he still had his back turned to her. Breathing in deeply, Belle started talking.  
  
“You have no idea how angry I am right now. In fact, I don't think I've ever been _this_ angry. I suppose if you wouldn't be so practised in being unbearable, and I wouldn't have so little exercise with being angry, I might have noticed it earlier, but as it is, I was too busy cursing you to notice anything else.”  
  
At the sound of her voice he spun around, catching the doorframe to support himself. His cane was nowhere to be seen. He stared at her like she was a ghost that had come back to haunt him. Her brain supplied a foggy memory of the moment she had stepped into his shop for the first time, still cursed and robbed of her memories, and he had looked at her with the same shocked and slightly hopeful expression. This look gave her hope, and encouraged her to go through with this.  
  
“Notice what?”, he said, shoulders tense and tone wary.  
  
“Notice that while you're doing everything to push me away, you're looking like you don't actually want me to go. As I said, if being angry wouldn't be so new to me, I might've caught on earlier. It's not the first time that you do this to me, after all”  
  
At that, he looked away from her, and Belle had her answer. Breathing out, the anger and tension leaving her, she closed the distance between them and touched his shoulder.  
  
“What is going on, Rumple?”  
  
He flinched and wretched his shoulder away from her, while his head shot up and he looked at her with fury burning in his eyes.  
  
“Nothing is going on. This is what I am, Belle”, he snarled at her, but Belle stood her ground.  
  
“No”, she replied calmly, “it's not. I know you, Rumplestiltskin.”  
  
“Do you, dearie?”  
  
It was the first time in what felt like centuries that he had applied his mocking nickname to her. A perversion of an endearment that he usually used to distance, to control, and mostly, to protect himself. In fact, as she noticed now, his voice had risen in pitch again, his sneer had returned, and he was falling back into his impish manners. Back in the Dark Castle his behaviour had gotten more and more human the closer they got; only when he- in a flight of fancy- had seeked to distance himself from her, to protect himself, had his impish manners returned. And now he was standing in front of her again, lashing out like he always had long ago.  
  
But Belle hadn't put up with his behaviour back then, and she certainly would not start now.  
  
“Oh, don't you dare to dearie me Rumplestiltskin! Yes, I know you. I know you, I love you, and you can try and be as insufferable as you want to, I won't go until I know why you are doing this!”  
  
He turned and took a few steps away from her.  
  
“I'm not trying to be insufferable Belle. _I am_. And that won't change”, he said, voice low and hoarse.  
  
Belle took a step towards him, her answer already on her lips, but when her foot touched the ground she hissed in pain instead, and she braced herself on the doorframe to take a proper look at her feet. Where her foot had been the ground sparkled with drops of blood.  
  
At her sound of pain Rumplestiltskin turned around, looked at her feet and winced. Tentatively, he stepped towards her, and extended his hand again.  
  
“Belle, please. Sit down and let me take care of your feet”, he pleaded with her. His face was pale and he looked tired and worried, and her heart clenched together. She wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him, let him take care of her and stroke his face reassuringly. Whatever reason made him act like he did, she could see that he was hurting, too.  
  
But Belle knew that it would take more than a hug to sort this out, and that this battle was far from over. Part of her wanted to refuse the offer outright, not wanting to seem weak or needy. She had survived worse after all. But somehow she had to get him to tell her what was going on. There was one way that was most likely to get him to do that.  
  
Narrowing her eyes, she swallowed her pride and said: “I'll make you a deal. I'll let you take care of my feet, if you'll answer my questions honestly”  
  
The torn look was back on his face again, and for some time he didn't answer her. Belle held his gaze, not backing down an inch. Finally he sighed.

“Deal.”  
  
Then he shoved a hand into his hair, shook his head and rubbed his face. When he finally looked at her, he looked as ancient as he was.  
  
“You sit down and I'll go and get everything.”  
  
Belle nodded and started to move towards the couch, all the way trying to let her feet touch the ground as little as possible. But when she tried to pass him, he stopped her and shook his head.  
  
“Use the armchair.”  
  
Confused, she looked around him towards the couch, and paled when she saw why he had stopped her. She had been wrong earlier; he hadn't smashed a glass. He had smashed the whole coffee table. The beautiful plate made of stained glass now covered the ground in shards, only pieces of it still sticking to it's frame. And now she realised what had been missing when he had left the house, as she saw his cane lying on the ground surrounded by broken glass.  
  
When she looked back towards him with one of her eyebrows raised, he avoided her eyes and turned away. Deciding not to ask- or rather, ask him later- Belle shrugged her shoulders and limped towards the armchair, while he went to carefully retrieve his cane without cutting himself.  
  
Grabbing a blanket and shaking it out carefully, he returned to her and wrapped it around her shoulders. Only now did she realise that she was still shivering violently.  
  
Then he limped towards the stairs, vanishing around the corner. Belle sat down and closed her eyes. Her mind was racing, and she tried to calm down. She would need to have a clear head to make sense of this mess. Rubbing her temples, she concentrated on her breath, trying to calm down. It was a technique that she had acquired while they were under siege. When fear and helplessness had tried to paralise her, it had often helped her to remain calm.  
  
But now every effort seemed futile. Every few seconds her mind would start to stray again, making it impossible for her to concentrate on the questions she wanted to ask. Not that it would help her much; she knew that he would try and distract her, and that even though he would be honest, he would leave things he rather wouldn't say unsaid if she didn't pay attention. When it came to dealing with Rumplestiltskin, a ready mind was necessary at all times. Still, she felt better if she at least tried to have a strategy.  
  
Suddenly noticing the silence, Belle frowned. He had been gone for a few minutes now, and even though it would take him a moment to get to the bathroom and get everything he needed, surely he should have been back by now. In fact, she could hear no sounds at all, not the tapping of his cane, no cupboards, no clinking of bottles while he dug through the cabinet.  
  
“Rum? Are you alright?”, she called, pushing herself up. But when her feet hit the ground, she bit back a scream and lowered herself back into the chair. This wouldn't do. Still biting her lip, Belle grabbed one of her feet and started to pick at the shards, realising that most of them were too small for her fingers to catch.  
  
“On my way ”, his voice called dimly from somewhere upstairs, followed by the tapping of his cane and the clinking of glass she had listened for. Then his footsteps grew louder, and she could hear him coming down the stairs. Still it felt like ages until he turned around the corner, a tablet with antiseptic, tweezers, gauze, a small bowl and a towel in his hands.  
  
Avoiding her eyes he set down the tablet on the floor, straightened up and went into the kitchen. A minute later he returned with a bowl full of water, carefully balancing it on one hand while he tried to support himself with his cane. Having had decades of practise he managed to get to her without spilling a drop. Slowly he bend over and set the bowl down next to the tablet. Then he reached behind him and pulled the footstool towards him. Twisting his knee awkwardly to put as little weight on it as he could, he sat down in front of her and softly eased her foot from her fingers. His jaws locked when he saw the torn flesh there, and he stroked his thumb over it, just barely touching her skin.  
  
“I'm sorry for this Belle. I don't know how to make this up to you.”  
  
Heart clenching at the sound of his voice, she touched his hand lightly with her fingertips.  
  
“By explaining why”, she said, her voice barely above a whisper. He didn't answer. Instead, he took up the tweezers, and placed her foot on his leg, grasping her ankle thighter.  
  
“This will hurt a bit”, he warned her unnecessarily. Then he set to work. For a couple of minutes they were silent, the only sounds surrounding them the occasional hiss from Belle and the clinking of the shards falling into the little bowl he had brought with him.  
  
As much as she wanted to ask him all the questions that were eating her up inside, Belle stayed silent. Instead she allowed herself to enjoy this silent moment between them. This was the most peaceful and tender moment they had shared in weeks. So Belle layed back and tried to ignore the pain, and enjoyed looking at his hands taking care of her.  
  
She had always been mesmerized by the way he had moved; back in the Enchanted Forest as much as now. Back then his movements had first been quick and powerful, bursting with energy, and later- when he had grown accustomed to her- more subduded, lazy even, and almost feline. When he put on his show he was all hands and fingers, every move calculated. But when he was simply being, his movements turned slower, more flowing, seeming that they were more an afterthought of the ongoings of his mind rather than serving any purpose. Here in Storybrooke he had managed to maintain this kind of grace that was entirely his own. It might not always show, due to his limp, but Belle knew what to look for. It showed in the way he held himself -Belle knew nobody else who was capable of being so motionless-, or the way he moved his hands, careful and tender, almost caressing whenever he handled something that he deemed in any way valuable. Maybe it was inevitable to be anything but gentle if you have spun for as many years as Rumplestiltskin did, Belle thought.  
  
So she watched his hands flutter over her foot, carefully removing any shards and splinters he could find, and caressing the skin to check if he had missed anything. After a couple of minutes he seemed to be satisfied, because he nodded to himself and sat up straighter. Then his fingers stroked over her bare sole and he looked at her, eyes dark and burning. She gasped and held his gaze, trying to decipher all the emotions in his eyes. She could see desperation and hunger, anger and fear and possibly love before the moment ended.  
  
Rumplestiltskin turned away and started putting some of the antiseptic into the water, while Belle watched his adam's apple rise and fall as he swallowed heavily. Then he gently lowered her foot into the water. The antiseptic burned where her skin was cut, but she still felt better.  
  
Both sat in silence as he worked on her other foot. When all shards were removed and her foot rested in the water, he stood up and Belle's heart clenched when he put a few steps between them.  
  
“It's best if we wait a few minutes for the anitseptic to work” , he commented while he looked down to watch his hands fidget with his cane.  
  
Belle watched him for a few moments, but he didn't seem in inclined to do aynthing other than avoiding her gaze. Sighing, she realised that she would have to fight through all of this.  
  
 _You never give up.  
  
_ Time to make good on that promise. Belle decided to start with the most important question, her heart beating fast.  
  
“Do you still love me?”  
  
He flinched, but didn't look up. His knuckles were white, and Belle held her breath. His voice was hoarse when he answered.  
  
“Yes.”

He looked up, meeting her eyes, the same intensity in them as before, paired with misery.  
  
“Yes, I do.”  
  
Belle felt relief rush through her body, making her gasp with the intensity of it.  
  
“I'm glad. I love you, too, you know?”  
  
Groaning, he turned away, running his hands through his hair, but when she extended her hand towards him he came to sit in front of her again, clutching her hand. Maybe it was always going to be this way between them, but it was something Belle was willing to take.  
  
“Tell me what's going on Rumple”, she pleaded, stroking her thumb over his hand in hers.  
  
He snorted quitely.  
  
“That's not a question.”  
  
Belle shook her head.  
  
“No. It's a plea.”  
  
At that he looked at her for a long time, his face suddenly scrunching up in pain.  
  
“I can't, Belle I-... I can't.”  
  
Her heart clenched.  
  
“You can't what? Tell me?”  
  
He shook his head.  
  
“Everything.”  
  
“I don't understand.”  
  
“No. No you don't.” he said, and then after a second, he lifted one of her feet out of the basin, dried it gently with a towel and repeated the process with her other foot. Then he placed the towel on his legs, and her feet on top of it. Belle had to supress a chuckle when he bend forward to grab the balm he had brought with him and accidentally dipped the tip of his tie into the water.  
Cursing, he ripped the tie from his neck, glaring as if it had offended him personally.  
  
It equally amused and hurt her that he still took such great care to preservere his dignity around her. As much as it was part of him, it was unnecessary; after all he had seen her in more than enough embarrassing situations- soaked through blouses whilst cleaning the floors, cake bater stuck to her cheek, and one time he had almost seen her naked, had she not quickly jumped behind the door of her cupboard. She still suspected that the vanished towel that had caused this incident was entirely his doing.  
  
Sheepishly meeting her gaze, he reached for the balm a second time. Oh so gently he massaged it into her raw soles, the balm, although burning slightly, immediately soothing the cuts.  
  
Belle tried to relax and to sort out the chaos in her mind while he worked away. The obvious questions where already on her lips, but she hestiated to voice them. Their deal would ensure that he would tell her the truth, but it felt like cheating to Belle. She would much rather have him tell her the truth by himself. If only she had a clue how to get him to do that.  
  
She felt a bit like she was nine years old again; learning how to play chess and trying to best her father. And unraveling Rumplestiltskin often was exactly like that, you needed patience and a ready mind, needed as much a strategy as the ability to abandon it. Rumplestiltskin was a master at it, and often she felt like a fumbling nine-year-old again.  
  
Sometimes she asked herself if it wouldn't all be so much easier had she declined his deal and married Gaston. But she knew that even though Gaston with his slow and shallow mind would never provoce such anger and desperation in her, he also would never inspire such a passion and love as Rumplestiltskin did. It would be an easier life, to be true. It would be a much more boring life, as well. Belle knew that even though their life wasn't easy, she wouldn't trade it for anything.  
  
Watching him bind her feet, she knew what she had to ask.  
  
“Why did you come after me this time?”  
  
When he looked at her, his face was confused.  
  
“Pardon?”  
  
She shrugged her shoulders, bored. He wasn't the only one who could play aloof. Nonchalantly she clarified:  
  
“The last time you got so angry with me that you shattered your furniture, you let me go when I went. Why did you come after me this time?”

  
Again he looked a bit sheepish for a moment, and she suspected that he had thought she hadn't seen the remnants of the spinning room when she left. Then, his face darkened.  
  
“The last time I let you go like that you ended up locked away in a basement for decades”  
  
“And you suspected that Regina would be after me again the moment I left the house?” she asked, eyebrows raised.  
  
He fletched his teeth.  
  
“I wouldn't write it off as impossible. But mostly I know what scum roams the streets at night. And I also know just how much luck you have, and that you didn't have your keys with you.”  
  
“I think you just didn't want me to go” she declared.  
  
When he practically jumped up, she knew she was right. Rumplestiltskin started pacing through the room, but after a few steps he just looked down at his leg with frustration and something almost like hatred and stopped behind the couch, gripping it's back, knuckles white.  
  
“Tell me what's going on Rumple. Please. “ she pleaded, and then choking a bit: “ Tell me why you don't want me any longer.”  
  
At that, his eyes blazed, his face furious.  
  
“Don't say that. This isn't about me. This isn't about what I want.”  
  
“Then what is this about? Me?”  
  
Again, he rubbed his face with both of his hands. Desperation rolled off him in waves. He looked up, and stared at her for a long time, searching her face for something. Whatever it was, he seemed to find it. Every century he had passed was written on his face when he said:  
  
“You have no idea who I am Belle. You have no idea what you are getting yourself into.”  
  
Belle looked at him, dumbfounded. After several moments of silence, she answered him, shaking her head lightly.  
  
“Rum, unless you've left out parts of your history, I know perfectly well who you are. Even if you did, I still know you. I've seen you deal, I've seen you ready to kill, I cleaned your clothes of the blood of your prisoners! How, _how,_ could I not know what I am getting myself into?!”  
  
And then, he exploded.  
  
“Because you don't! Sometimes I think you look at me and you don't really see me. You say you see good in me, but there is none left Belle. I destroy the things I love. I have always been this way, and that won't change! You read all these stories and get all these ideas, and I'm not- I'm not- I won't- Don't you see Belle?! Nothing good can come out of this! Because this here, this is all I have to offer, and you deserve more than that, you know that as well as I do! And I won't change, I won't turn into some man that could make you happy. I'm a monster, and if I'm not, I'm nothing. Why can't you understand that?! It will not happen! ”  
  
Belle had never felt so confused in her whole life.  
  
“What will not happen?”  
  
“Me turning into a Prince Charming! This isn't one of your stories Belle! And as much as I wish that I could be enough to deserve you, it won't happen. There is no day in the future to which we have to make it. Breaking my curse won't be our happy ending. Not even your kiss can change me into anything other than I am- there will be no hero for you, there will only be this, and old man with a limp, broken and evil and a coward!”  
  
By now, his faze was twisted with grief and pain, his whole body tense with fury, his breath ragged.  
  
“I know what you think. You think because you could fall for the monster, it will be enough. But beneath the monster, in the very core, I'm only a feeble, incapable spinner, who can offer you nothing. You think that if you love me enough, it will change me, that I will turn into this idealised version of me that you've constructed in your head-”  
  
Anger flared up in her.  
  
“You seem to have an awful lot of ideas what I am thinking. You know Rumplestiltskin, if you would've just cared to _ask,_ you might've spared us this mess.”  
  
Rumplestiltskin snorted.  
  
“Don't try to tell me that you think differently. I know what I have to offer, and apart from magic, there isn't much.”  
  
“I beg to differ”, she said, piercing him with her eyes.  
  
“That's what you say now”, he spat, his face crumpled with pain and fury.  
  
“One day you will notice that I have nothing to offer you except pain and grief. My magic might be able to protect you, but it's the thing that endangers you in the first place. I am the reason you have been tortured and locked away! I would tear the world apart to protect you Belle. I would kill them all without batting an eye, and the cost would be your love. Don't you see Belle?! I can't protect you! I can't save you! I can't be the center of your life, and therefore it's better if we end it now, before it is too late!”  
  
When he finished, he was breathing hard, his eyes were dark, energy and pain radiating off him.  
  
Belle stared at him and tried to decide what to do. Part of her wanted to rage, scream and shake him; to tell him what an arrogant fool he could be, why he had to make this so hard for them, and why he couldn't just trust her. Another part wanted to sob with relief that he loved her, with grief that he deemed himself so unworthy of love, of her; wanted to craddle him and reassure him.  
Neither would help them at the moment, so Belle decided to listen to the voice of reason. Now it was her time to act.  
  
Looking firmly into his eyes, Belle made her move.  
  
“Did I ask you to?”  
  
He looked up, utterly confused.  
  
“Sorry?”  
  
“Did I ask you to protect me from you? Did I ask you to save me? Did I ask you to be the center of my life?”  
  
He fell silent.  
  
“N-no. No you didn't”, he said, sounding confused. And then, a bit sheepishly:  
  
“Maybe that was a bit presumptious of me.”  
  
Belle nodded.  
  
“It was.”  
  
And then, because she couldn't take it longer:  
  
“Not too much though”, she said, her voice soft. He looked up at her, and she thought she saw hope in his eyes. Pushing herself up carefully, she stood and took a few tentative steps towards him. The pain was still there, but bearable. She took it gladly. He opened his mouth to protest, but she raised a finger, and he fell silent. Instead, he took a step forward, and caught her at the elbows, trying to steady her. She layed her hands on his chest and looked up at his face.  
  
“Just to get this clear. You think that I have this idea that I will only have to endure you the way you are until you magically turn into a hero. That I somehow think that falling for a “monster” is romantic, and that I will be rewarded for such bravery, as it happens in the books. And because you think that magic is the only thing valuable about you, and I want you to let go of it, that once you do, all I will find is a lame, worthless spinner, and then I will leave you. So you figured that it would be best for me not to be with you in the first place. Did I get that right?”

He swallowed, and nodded.  
  
“Belle, I will either destroy you or disappoint you. I couldn't live with myself- you have to understand-”  
  
“No. No, Rumplestiltskin. _You_ have to understand. You said it before; this isn't about you. This also isn't about me. It's about _us._ Both of us!”  
  
“I _know_ that you think I can be enough Belle. But over time you will see that I'm not-”  
  
At that, she laughed bitterly.  
  
“So you just went and made that decision for me? Because of something that _might_ happen? Rumple, what was the very first thing you learned about me?”  
  
He was silent for a few seconds, and then understanding dawned, spreading over his face.  
  
“Nobody decides your fate but you.”  
  
Belle nodded.  
  
“Exactly”, she said, and gripped his arms, digging her fingers into his flesh to ensure that he would listen.  
  
“Listen to me Rumplestiltskin: If my kiss can break your curse, do you think that something so trivial as your power could change my love for you? I didn't fell in love with you because of your flourishes and magic tricks. I fell for what I saw beneath; you, you as all you are and can be. I've seen you in your darkest moments and still loved you, because I could see that there was still good in you! Don't you understand, Rumple? I love _you,_ no matter what you are, just as you loved me when I came to you broken and lost, or as you love me now, when I break your stove and am completely useless. That's why it's True Love! Because I would still rather be at your side in a straw hut with nothing to eat, rather than sitting in a castle without you! Do you truly think me so shallow?!”  
  
Belle gasped for breath.  
  
“And I don't want you to stop using magic because of me, I want it for _you._ Don't you see, Rumple? You want magic to protect what means most to you, but in the end magic takes it from you. I want you to be happy- and as long as you cling to magic, you will keep on making the wrong decisions, and that's why I want you to let go of it! Not because I think breaking your curse will change you into knight in shining armor. Your curse isn't the magic; it's the belief that you're worthless without it. And to speak of knights- as it is I was engaged to one. If I wanted that, I could've had it! Instead, I broke the engagement and went with you. I fell in love with _you_ , and not with Gaston! And when you threw me out, I was coming back to _you_ , and not to Gaston!”  
  
It was probably the longest speech she had given him to this day, and Belle was out of breath, while he stared at her, looking slightly dazed. But she wasn't done. She was so angry at him for making this so hard for them, just because he thought himself worthless. Stupid, arrogant fool!  
  
“Speaking of you killing everyone to protect me- yes, that would cost you my respect. But do you truly think I would just stand idly by and watch you do that?”  
  
“No”, he said, voice low, “no, you wouldn't”

“Exactly!”, Belle said hotly, shaking his shoulders lightly.  
  
“First off because it isn't right, and second because I can't bear to think what this would do to you. Don't you see, Rum? I won't one day look at you, see you for what you are, and run away, because I already do. I _know_ what you've done in your past, and although I don't agree with it, I still love you! I know what you've been, and I still love you! You don't have to do anything to be worthy of my heart, because I gave it to you when you weren't even trying to win it! I don't want you to change, I only want you to be happy, and us to be together! All I'm asking of you is to love me, and to try to make the right decisions. Can't you do that? Can't you trust me to be strong enough to love you? Can't you believe me? Because I love you, and you can't just go and change that you moron! I love you-”  
  
He silenced her by crushing his lips against hers. Belle resisted full five seconds- she was no weakling after all- but when he moaned her name against her lips, she gave in. This kiss was rough, more teeth than anything, desperate in their attempt to overcome the distance that had kept them apart for too long. Rumplestiltskin drew her towards him, his arms reaching around her back, one hand burying in her hair. When he bit into her lower lip, Belle gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck, stretching to get closer. But when she put her weight on her tiptoes, trying to reach him, she flinched in pain.  
  
Rumplestiltskin drew away from her slightly, looking for what had caused her distress. His eyes were warm and dark when he looked at her, wonder still on his face.  
  
“You shouldn't be on your feet, sweetheart.”  
  
While he led her back to the chair, Belle felt a pang of happiness that he finally sounded normal again when he used the endearment. When she was back in the armchair, he sat himself down on the the footstool, taking her feet in his lap again. After checking that the bandages where still in place, he bent down and took up a pair of his socks that he carefully slid over her feet. When he was finished, he looked up at her, eyes dark and face old.  
  
“I have to apologize Belle. Again. I thought I was doing the right thing- but isn't that what I always do? I am trying Belle. I truly am. You make me wish to be a better man than I am, but I fear that I will always be the man that makes the wrong decisions.”, he said to her, voice thick and rough. “It's not that I don't trust you; I don't trust myself. Nobody except Bae has ever loved me for what I am, and look what happened... It would be better for you not to love me. But I see now that I did you wrong by taking that decision from you. It's just...” he looked at her, lost, “ You terrify me Belle. I love you, darling, more than I can say, but you terrify me. You shouldn't love me. You shouldn't forgive the things I do. And yet here you are.. and I don't know what to do. And it's killing me Belle. I want you to be happy, too. And I tend to stand in the way of that. So I tried to send you away... but I couldn't. You were right” he admitted, and then his eyes burned, and it send a shiver down her spine.  
  
“I tried to let you go. But I'm a selfish creature.”  
  
He said it as a warning, maybe hoping that she would finally hear him. Belle smiled.  
  
“I'm glad.”  
  
He groaned.  
  
“You're not getting rid of me that easily, Rumplestiltskin.”, she said, leaning forward to cup his cheek. “I'm not going anywhere.”  
  
He craddled the hand on her face and whispered her name. Ashamed, he said:  
  
“I'm sorry. I told you I am a difficult man to love.”  
  
Belle didn't disagree.  
  
Then an idea took form in her head. She looked at him contemplatingly.  
  
“Was this the reason you never...”, blushing, she let the sentence trail off.  
  
“The reason I never did what, sweetheart?”, he asked, curiously eyeing her pink cheeks.  
  
Now it was Belle's turn to avoid his eyes. She cursed her sudden shyness. Hadn't she tried to seduce him an hour ago? It was so silly that she still felt clumsy and awkward to talk about this. In this world, the affairs between man and woman were nothing to be ashamed off, yet to her, talking about it seemed like an impassible obstacle.

 _Do the brave thing,_ she reminded herself.  
  
They had come so far this evening, she wasn't going to let silly shyness stop her.  
  
“ I was wondering if all those thoughts had been the reason that you... that you refused to let me see you- all of you, when we were... together.”, she finished awkwardly, her cheeks aflame. She had wondered why he had refused to keep the lights on whenever they had made love, but she had written it off as the normal thing to do. After all, she had no practice in those things. Only when they had come together in the light of day, and he had shed his clothes only as far as was necessary, had she thought that there might be more than simple habit to the darkness he had clouded them in.  
  
“I... There's nothing worth looking at Belle. I wanted to spare you.”  
  
Belle bit back a bitter laugh. It always seemed to be that when he tried to spare her, exactly that made them unhappy in the end.  
  
“Oh. I thought...”, she started, but thought better of it.  
  
“Thought what?”, he inquired tensely.  
  
Belle took a deep breath, and looked down at their hands.  
  
“I was afraid that maybe... maybe it was me you didn't want to see”, she admitted, embarrassed.  
  
And it was what she had feared, for he not only left his body covered as much as possible, he also had done nothing to unveil hers. Belle, who had spend months locked up longing for him, and then, because she couldn't remember him, decades longing for _somebody_ to touch, wanted nothing more than to see him. The mystery that was Rumplestiltskins body fanned her curiosity until there was in some moments little else she could think about. She had thought he had felt the same about her, but when he didn't act on it, she had begun to doubt. Inexpercience and shyness had kept her from acting upon her desire, and she had started to think that he simply did not want her as much in this way as she wanted him. After all, he was centuries old, and had had women before her. Maybe he was tired of it all, and only indulged her. Just thinking about it made a lump form in her throat.  
  
It losened a bit when she saw the horrified look on his face.  
  
“Belle, oh Belle, don't think that. _Never_ think that I don't want you. How could I possibly not want you?” he said, his voice strained.  
  
“Well, I know that love and lust dont always walk hand in hand... You have lived for so long, I thought that maybe... and I neither know what I am doing, nor have I particularly much else to offer”, she explained,motioning towards her bosom,” I thought maybe you just didn't want me in that way, and you were only indulging me”, she finished in a small voice.  
  
He choked, shaking his head slightly.  
  
His voice sounded a bit desperate when he said:  
  
“I'm doing everyhting wrong, am I not? I try to do the right thing, and you end up thinking that I don't want you. Believe me Belle, I do want you. Oh, how I want you”, he said, voice desperate.  
  
Heat and embarrassment pooled in her belly.  
  
“It seems you're not the only one who has to work on his self-esteem.” she said sheepishly.  
  
He grunted undignified.  
  
“It seems”, he agreed, shaking his head. “It was hard enough to see your _ankles_ back in the Dark Castle, and now you taunt me with high heels and bare legs, with dipping necklines and lace dresses and _exposed backs-_ it takes every ounce of selfcontrol I have to refrain from stripping every bit of fabric from your skin so that I can finally see you.”, he confessed, eyes burning with what she now understood as desire. Her skin tingled from his words.  
  
“Then why didn't you?” she asked, searching his eyes.  
  
“Belle”, he said, grasping her hands, “ sweetheart, you have been locked away for thirty years. You have never done this before. You deserve more than some fumbling old pervert, staring at you. You're too precious for that. I wanted to spare you... “  
  
Belle interrupted him.

“And it never occurred to you that I might feel the same way about you?”, she asked, and he didn't answer her.  
  
“Because I do, Rumple, I do. And you're right, I've been locked away for thirty years. Thirty years that I waited for you. Thirty years I missed you, thirty years I wished to touch you..”  
  
Shyness tried to overcome her again, but this was more important.  
  
“Thirty years without any touch but my own. Thirty years of imagining it was _you_ touching me instead. Thirty years of imagining what you would look like would I undress you, or what your skin would taste like. What _you_ would taste like.”  
  
He choked while she grabbed his arms again.  
  
“ I was so afraid to go to sleep every night. Not because of the nightmares. Because it mean that another day was over that I hadn't spend with you. My life was running through my fingers, and I was powerless to do anything about it. Don't make me wait longer, Rum, please, don't make me wait longer.”  
  
Her voice was pleading now, and she leaned forward to touch his face, to run her fingers through his hair. He tried to say something, but his voice cracked. His hands were rubbing circles over her thighs, but he didn't seem to be aware of it. She suspected that if she put her hands on his heart, his would beat as fast as hers. And because she could, Belle did exacty that.  
  
Running her hands through his hair, she slowy trailed over his jaw and down his neck. She felt his adam's apple moving when he swallowed heavily, could feel his skin throat vibrate when he murmured her name.  
  
“Belle”, he croaked when she had reached his shoulders. “I'm not a pretty sight” he told her, sounding apologizing.  
  
Belle trailed her fingers over the collar of his shirt, carefully opening the first button and dipping her fingers below the fabric, finding soft skin and a few hairs. Only then, with her fingers on his skin, did she lift her eyes to his.  
  
“Why don't you let me be the judge of that?”  
  
The sound he made was something between a hiss and a groan. Belle took her feet from his lap and stood up. Then she held her hand out towards him, drawing him up to stand as well. As soon as he stood, she grabbed his shirt. There was still something they had to sort out before she could let herself be happy.  
  
“Promise me that you will never, _never_ again decide such things for me, Rumplestiltskin. Promise me that you will talk about these things with me.”  
  
He licked his lips.  
  
“I will try.”  
  
“No”, she said, shaking her head, eyebrows knitting together, “ trying is not good enough. This is something you will _do.”_  
  
Belle glared at him, until he sighed and nodded.  
  
“Yes, I will. I promise.”  
  
“Good.”, she nodded, more to herself than to him, and stepped around him. She was halfway through the living room when she noticed that he was not following her. Turning around halfway, she looked at him.  
  
“Are you- are you coming?”, she asked, worrying that she had interpreted the situation wrong.  
  
Rumplestiltskin watched her, emotions fighting on his features. In the end wonder and desire remained. He followed her.  
  
Belle headed for the stairs, her heart beating faster with every step. Somehow she had to show him how she saw him, but how to go about it? Belle had basic knowledge at best, certainly not enough to impress him, to _show_ him- and then her mind went blank, because his hands were at her waist, holding her, and his lips were at her back, slowly stoking over the skin between her shoulder blades.  
  
“Don't move” he growled into her skin. As if she could.  
  
When he was sure that she was doing as he had told her, his hands and lips left her body. Then his fingers started to caress her back. Following her chain, she realised. Shuddering, Belle was now glad that she hadn't flung it away earlier.  
  
Then he slowly lifted the chain, dragging it over her head and taking it out of her eyesight. She expected to feel it trail over her skin, but instead his hands returned to her waist, drawing her against him. He was standing a step lower than her, and she could feel him pressed against her. Heat was pulsing through her, pooling in her belly, and he had barely touched her.  
  
He trailed his lips over her shoulders, from left to right and back again, his breath hot against her skin. Then he lifted his hand to draw away the hairs that had escaped her braid, clamped his mouth over her neck, and sucked.  
  
Moaning, she tried not to let herself fall back against him, but her legs felt like giving out. Rumplestiltskin didn't seemed to mind; he only cradled her closer instead, his right hand coming around her and resting on her ribcage. His fingers dug into the soft fabric of her top, and he let go of her neck, kissing the spot he had bitten before. Surely he had left a bruise that would last her a week. Belle found that she didn't mind that in the slightest. His lips brushed over her ear.  
  
“You really shouldn't be wearing this top.”  
  
His voice travelled through her body like liquid, leaving goosebumps in it's wake. She had wanted to show him what he meant to her, and instead she was losing herself in his attentions. Belle turned around in his embrace.  
  
“You're right”, she said, and then she pulled the top over her head, leaving her bare to his gaze. He froze, looking shocked and dazed, and she fought not to give into the urge to cover her nakedness with her arms. He had said that he wanted her, and she trusted him.  
  
And then her name broke through his lips, and his hands were roaming her body; touching, caressing, stroking every inch of skin, only to be followed by his lips. When his mouth found her nipple, Belle moaned and shoved her hands into his hair, holding his head to her chest, while his arms came around her and held her flush against him. She could feel him hard against her belly, and the things the knowledge that she had done this to him did exquisite things to her insides.  
  
“Never turn away from me again unless you truly want to”, she gasped between heaving breaths. This was important, and she had to be sure that he wouldn't try to leave her again because he thought it would be better for her.  
  
“Never”, he replied, breath as ragged as hers, lips pressed to her breast, his hand craddling the other. She wasn't sure if he meant the first or last part of her request, or both.  
  
He left her chest in favour of her lips, kissing her with tongue and teeth. It was clumsy and messy, and Belle loved it all the more for it. While he was distracted by her mouth, she tried to unbutton his shirt, which proved to be extremely difficult. After the first two buttons, she gave up, and reached down to pull it over his head. Just then his lips found her throat again, and Belle decided his shirt could wait a moment. When he found a particularly sensitive spot under her jaw, Belle let her head fall back and moaned. At that, he ripped his head back, eyes black and burning.  
  
“Enough. Bedroom, now”, he commanded. As it was, Belle was happy to oblige. Her blood was singing with lust, anticipation and nervousness. When she reached the top of the stairs, she turned around, finding him still where she had left him. He was watching her, knuckles white and jaw tense. But this time, she knew the reason.  
  
Feeling bold, she reached behind her and undid the hook of her skirt. She was sure she never had seen him get up the stairs so fast.  
  
Keeping her skirt from falling down with one hand on her back, she went into the bedroom. She turned on the lights and turned around. Rumplestiltskin was standing in the doorway, watching her, waiting what she would do. She smiled.  
  
He opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say died on his lips when she let her skirt fall to the ground. Now the only thing preservering her modesty were small lace panties. She knew that he could see her dark hair shimmering through the light peach of the cloth.  
  
For a moment, he said nothing, only taking in her picture. Under his scrutiny, Belle started to feel self-concious, but she refused to let it get the better of her. There was nothing wrong about her.  
  
Then Rumplestiltskin started moving towards her, slowly, gracefully and entirely predatory. Shivering, and this time not for the cold, Belle watched as he stalked towards her, each of his steps deliberate and  languid. But when he stopped before her, all he did was touch her cheek with the back of a finger.  
  
“Belle ”, he said her name with such tenderness and love that Belle felt tears in her eyes.  
  
“Rumple ”, she answered.  
  
He bowed his head and caught her lips, and when she raised on her tiptoes this time, she didn't flinch. This was worth a bit of pain. This kiss was slow, almost lazy, and more refined. It was a kiss that bought time for both of them, because neither knew how to handle this newfound all-consuming passion. It was a kiss to reassure them that all was well between them.  
  
Belle looked up at him when they separated. Now was the time to show him that this- they- were what she wanted. Somewhere in between she had lost her shyness. There was no need to be shy. This was Rumplestiltskin, and she loved him. And he loved her.  
  
Smiling, she slowly slid her hands under his shirt. The muscles tightened under her touch, moving when he sucked in air. Slowly, she let her hands wander higher, letting him get used to the idea. Watching him, she stroked over his chest. He hissed when she touched his nipples, and closed his eyes. Then he gave a slight nod.  
  
Belle grasped the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and letting it fall somewhere behind her, her eyes gliding over his exposed chest. Finally, after all these years, she could see him, could see the taunt muscles and the tanned skin. His chest was covered with a few hairs and the occasional scar. He was as beautiful as she had imagined him.  
  
His eyes were still pressed together, as if he didn't dare to see her reaction, and her heart clenched with love for him. She layed her hands on his chest, and pressed her lips to the place above his heart.  
  
“Breathe”, she whispered into his skin.  
  
Chuckling, he obeyed, and Belle smiled against his chest. Then she pulled her head away, and looked her fill. He was watching her, fidgeting nervously, but he did not complain. Taking her time- time they now had- Belle let her fingers trail over his body, following every muscle and sinew, ever scar and line she could find. Smiling, she learned his body, not minding his anxious gaze. After minutes of careful exploration that eclicted nothing but a deeply satisfied smile from her, he finally managed to relax. Only then did she lean forward, and continued her exploration with her lips.  
  
Belle had always wanted to travel, and now she did. Her lips climbed the heights of his throat and travelled into the valley she found below, and while her lips lingered there and rested, her fingers travelled over the soft hills of his arms, up to the steep summits of his shoulders. Trailing down gently, her fingers walked across the rise of his collarbones, while her lips grazed the skin in the dales above them. Her lips traveled over the plaines of his chest, abandoning their slow track only when they were stopped by his nipple. There she remained and explored with teeth and tongue, while her hands roamed south over the expanse of his stomach, finding a thicket of hair there.  
  
Her journey was long and thorough, accompanied by sounds and scents, musk and pine and sweat, moans and pleas and _Belle, oh Belle,_ and although this was an adventure, she felt at home.  
  
When her fingers grazed the waistband of his trousers, she pulled her mouth from his skin. Asking for his permission, she looked up at his eyes, dark and feral and full of love. Again, his breath caught in his throat, and she smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek.

“Breathe”, she commanded him, her voice soft.  
  
Closing his eyes again, Rumplestiltskin turned his head, kissed her hand and, holding it firmly to his face, inhaled.  
  
“Good”, she smiled, stroking her thumb over his cheek. Then she cupped his face with both hands, and kissed him lightly on the lips. Immediately his arms came around her, and the feel of his bare arms on her naked skin made her shiver. Rumplestiltskin took over the kiss, and while he leaned into her, Belle reached between their bodies. Opening his trousers became a little fight, and she felt a bit embarrassed for being clumsy, but she didn't let that deter her. In their previous intimacy both had had ther fumbling moments or little accidents, and she suspected that that wouldn't change. Belle found that she liked it better this way; a little awkwardness now and then reminded her that this was real, and not a story in one of her books.  
  
Hooking her thumbs under the waistband of his pants as well as his underwear, Belle swallowed heavily. Then she started to pull them down, being too fast in her eagerness to see him bared. The pants caught on his waist, but after some frantic tugging, they finally fell on the floor, and she could finally, finally see him.  
  
She stepped away to get a good look, but she took his hands in hers to let him know that she was not stepping away from him.  
  
Not feeling quite bold enough to just simply _look_ , Belle looked at his face instead, his tanned skin framed by dark, greying hair, his dark eyes, so expressive and in this world surrounded with little wrinkles , his crooked nose, so distinct even when his curse had changed his appeareance so much, the mouth that looked so stern but that she knew could shape itself into the sweetest smile, his jaw that would come forward when he was being stubborn. In her head she could see his face how it had been; gold-green and scaled, with huge strange eyes that were so much more nervous than the deep brown ones she was looking into now. Back then his eyes were always moving, hiding what he thought. Now, he looked at her, self-conciousness and desire, nervousness and love evident in them.  
  
Belle wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Right now she was sure he could see burning cheeks.  
  
Her eyes followed the trail her fingers had taken before, jaw and throat, shoulders and collarbones, over his chest down to his stomach, and then, avoiding his lap, looked at his knee.

She showed no emotion when she looked at the scars and the pink flesh, rising and falling. To some it might be ugly she figured, to her it was what it was; a part of Rumplestiltskin, and therefore precious to her.  
  
Not being able to delay it longer, and strangely not wanting to, Belle raised her eyes.  
  
It wasn't the first time she saw a man naked. Growing up surrounded by knights, and later caring for the wounded soldiers had seen to that. And maybe Belle had also been a bit curious. But this was different, this wasn't plain curiosity. This was lust, and love, and an ache so bittersweet that she wanted to cry.  
  
He was hard, and knowing that she was the reason for that left Belle elated and with a fierce pride and possessivness. It killed a part of her to know that while he was the only one to see her so, to have her, he had known, had loved other women. But Belle knew that he had never bared himself like this before- body and soul- and that the past was gone, as well as those women. He had thought her dead, and loved her still decades later. She was the one who stood before him now, telling him to breathe. And for the first time Belle didn't feel like a fumbling, silly girl with him, but like a woman, equal to him. The thought made her skin tingle and warm, send blood racing through her veins. Belle almost laughed with the freedom she felt. She had tried to find herself as Belle in this world, rather than just being his True Love, yet now that she stood in front of him, she felt that she had never been more Belle. She was both, and neither less than the other, as much as she was Belle, she was his love, as much as she was his love, she was Belle. And she realised that it was the same way for him. Giddy, Belle smiled at him, and told him the only important thing, laughter coating her voice.  
  
“I love you, Rumplestiltskin.”  
  
He regarded her with relief and awe.  
  
“And I love you, too”, he replied.  
  
Warmth spreading through her, she stepped towards him, bringing their bodies as close together as possible withtout touching him. Since she had left the hospital she hadn't felt so in control. Squeezing his hands, she looked up to him.  
  
“Then hold still, and let me love you.”  
  
Rumplestiltskin let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes. He didn't say anything, but his hand were gripping hers tightly, and she supposed that he was fighting for control, and that he was doing as she had asked him. The thought send a jolt through her body.  
  
Belle tried to decide what she wanted to do. Everytime they had made love before, Rumplestiltskin had focused solely on her pleasure, ensuring with clever fingers and eager lips that she forgot everything around her, trying to make up for his past failures, and, as she now realised, also distracting her from his body. He had been so attentive and thorough, only finding his pleasure when he was sure that her lust was sated, but Belle yearned for something more reciprocrative. As wonderful as his attentions were, Belle wanted to touch, to see, to taste. Wanted to see him as unravelled as he left her, wanted him in all his unrestrained and free glory.  
  
As much as she would have liked to go about this with skill and refinement, Belle had to accept she did not possess those qualitites. What she had got though was vigour and curiosity. The latter won out when she, very unceremoniously, reached out and touched his cock, first with the tips of her fingers, then sliding down, cupping him. By now she was used to the strangled sound this eclicted from him, the first time she had done it, she had thought she had hurt him.  
  
Moving her hand, she stroked his length with her thumb, and then reaching the base, she trailed off to the side, slowly drawing circles over the sensitive skin of his loins.  
  
“Sweetheart, please”, he said, voice ragged an breathing hard, ”If you're going to kill me, at least do so naked.”  
  
Looking down, Belle realised that she was still wearing her underwear. Contemplating it for a moment, she reached out and placed his hands on her hips.  
  
Rumplestiltskin liked his lips and bent down, bending awkwardly due to his bad knee. When she stepped out of the little pile of lace, he leaned back to look at her. Belle contently let him look his fill, stroking her fingers through his hair while she waited. Whispering her name, he buried his face in her stomach, inhaling her scent, but not trying to touch her apart from the little kisses that he pressed to her belly and his hands gripping her hips. Heat pooled inside her, and her heart beat fast. She was wet, and it would be so very easy and tempting to just give into his ministrations and let him have his way with her. But for tonight, Belle had other plans. So she tugged at his shoulders, getting him to stand again.  
  
Bringing one am around his neck, she kissed him like the world was ending, her tongue stroking along his and caressing the spot on the roof of his mouth that never failed to make him moan. In the meantime she sneaked her other hand between their bodies, strocking his length with her fingertips and then taking him in her hand. Slowly, she began to move her hand up and down, her gripp sometimes light and tender, sometimes firm and demanding. He gripped her shoulders, fingers digging painfully in her skin, but Belle didn't complain. He still wore marks of her fingernails on his back.  
  
Leaving his mouth, she kissed his jaw and stroked her nose along his ear, touching the soft spot right behind it with the tip of her tongue while she slowly stroked the tip of his cock with her thumb, spreading the moisture that had gathered there. She kissed and nipped her way down his throath, his skin smelling like musk and pine and faintly like leather and magic.  
  
When Belle found the spot where the scent was the strongest,she clamped her mouth down on his throat and lightly burried her teeth in his flesh, while simultaneously stroking his length with a quick, firm stroke.  
  
The moan she was rewarded with for that made her toes curl.  
  
“Do that again.”  
  
So Belle bit and sucked his neck, creating a rather nice bruise herself, while her hand stroked him. Her hand started to hurt from the awkward angle, and his moans -although still loud and encouraging- subsided a bit over time, so Belle figured that she had to try something else. Pulling her arm from his neck, she reached down and touched the sack of skin beneath his cock that was, to her confusion, very sensitive.  
  
The effect was immediate, a hiss broke from his lips and his hips shot forward, pressing his hot length against her stomach. Belle herself was aching by now, feeling the rush of her blood pusling through her body.  
  
Releasing him, Belle put her hands on his chest and pushed him towards the bed. When his legs hit the bed, he sat down rather ungracefully, and she used his distraction to climb onto his lap. Gripping his head firmly, she kissed him again, pressing her sex against him, letting him feel how hot and wet she was. He moaned her name into her mouth, breath hot against her skin, and wrapped one arm around her, the other one stroking her rips, her breast, pinching her nipple.  
Belle gasped at the sensation, pressing closer to him. Rumplestiltskins hand wandered down, wanting to stroke her, or mabye push his fingers into her like he had done before, but Belle caught his hand.  
  
“Not now”, she said, and pushed him back so that he came to lie on the bed. Belle was glad that Ruby had explained to her how contraception worked- not without teasing her mercilessly- and had helped her to get the pill- not without teasing her even worse- because it meant that now she didn't need to worry if she was using a condom correctly.  
Rising on her knees, she reached between them, but he held up a hand.  
  
“Wait”, he pleaded, and then waved his hand, purple smoke revealing her necklace. Carefully he draped it over her shoulders, the cold metal coming to rest between her breasts. He watched her with hunger in his eyes, and then he nodded.  
  
Her eyes never leaving his, she sunk down on him, burying him in her hot flesh. A shudder ran down her spine at the sensation, and Rumplestiltskin held his breath.  
  
“Breathe” , she commanded again, and he obeyed, smiling slightly.  
  
And then, Belle started to move. It took a moment for her to find a rhythm, but soon he was lying beneath her, panting hard, as she raised herself slowy and ground back down hard on his cock.  
She was listening to the sounds he made, watched his face, learned what made him pant and gasp, changed her movements when he got quieter, just like he had done with her. By luck she found an angle that seemed to bring him more pleasure than the ones before, and although it didn't do much for her, she kept at it. This was not about her, this was about him, and Belle was content with the lazy heat melting her bones and the feeling of him filling and stretching her, stroking her with every thrust.  
  
Rumplestiltskin seemed to notice that she was in no hurry to come, and tried to sneak his hand between her tighs again, but she caught it and pinned it above his head, pressing her body flush against his.  
  
“Let me”, she whispered against his lips, and then she kissed him without stopping to move.  
  
His other hand grabbed her hip, and he tried to thrust up into her, but his position only allowed him to move along with her. She let go of his other hand in order to brace herself, and as soon as she let got his hand tangled in her hair. Their rhythm picked up, and Belle moved faster, riding him harder. Belle bent down and bit into his shoulder, stroking the skin with her tongue afterwards. He grunted, and rasped out her name again and again, called her his love and pleaded with her never to stop, never to go. She answered him with _Rumple, my Rumplestiltskin,_ and _yes, yes there, yes,_ and _I missed you so_ and _I love you, I love you, I love you.  
  
_ Belle could feel him tensing, and she realised that he was waiting for her. But she didn't want him to wait, wanted to see him come undone, and so she ground her hips harder against him and sucked on his neck, and when he held his breath, she whispered one word into his ear.  
  
“Come.”  
  
And Rumplestiltskin obeyed. Fingers digging into her hips, he pulled her as hard against him as he could, thrusting upwards, and came inside her with a cry that attempted to be a mixture between her name and a curse.  
  
Panting and eyes closed he lay beneath her, and Belle tried not to laugh with triumph and joy. She rode out his pleasure, slowing down. She had been close, carried away by their passion, but she didn't mind not finding her release.  
  
Rumplestiltskin opened his eyes and looked at her, eyes predatory.  
  
“Now”, he said, and flipped her onto her back so fast that she could only gasp in alarm. He bend over her, weight on his good leg, and kissed her, while he pushed her thighs apart. And then his fingers were in her, on her, stroking and rubbing, thrusting in and out of her, first two, then three fingers, while the thumb of his other hand slowly stroked up and down through her folds, spreading the wetness- hers and his- and then describing little circles where the little bundle of nerves lay that she had discovered when she had turned seventeen.  
  
Now it was Belle keening and moaning beneath him, while he kissed her and murmured words of love into her skin, and took her with his hands. The world narrowed, until there was nothing left but Rumplestiltskin and his fingers, and the heat racing through her, burning hotter and hotter until she couldn't take it, until she wanted to sob _stop_ and _yes,_ _yes, yes.  
  
_ And then Rumplestiltskin put his mouth to her ear and said one word.  
  
“Come.”  
  
And the world exploded into a thousand little pieces, and Belle lost herself. Her hips moved, and thrusted against his hand, riding out her pleasure, and Belle let out a hoarse cry. Rumplestiltskin kissed her throat, fingers still in her, slowly stroking her, while Belle slowly sank down to earth, her inner muscles slowly stopping to clench, her breath levelling out again.  
  
Belle opened her eyes, finding him looking down at her. She stroked his cheek, and he smiled the smile that she considered nobody but her ever got to see, and to her, he was the most beautiful thing in the world. Somehow she had to make him see what she saw.  
  
“You're a brave man, Rumplestiltskin”, she said, smiling. His face darkened, immediately suspecting that she was making fun of him, only to turn confused when he realised that she was serious.  
  
“No sweetheart, I'm a coward”, he replied.  
  
“Sometimes”, she agreed, “but most of the time you are braver than most people.”  
  
He looked sceptical, but she suspected that their recent activities had exhausted him too much to outright refuse it.  
  
“And why is that?”  
  
Belle drew him down next to her, cuddling into his arms and looking up into his face.  
  
“Because you try. Yes, you made a lot of wrong decisions. And yes, sometimes you're acting like a coward. But you try, Rumple. A wrong decision cost you your son, and you spend centuries trying to find a way back. You didn't always use the right ways, but you try. You tried to make your wife happy, you maimed yourself to be there for your son, you cursed yourself to save him and all the other children. You try to be better, even if you do it for my sake. You try, Rumplestiltskin, and that's a lot more than can be said for other people. And that's why I believe that you aren't lost; because being good does not mean to wield a sword or rule a kingdom, it means that one is willing to try and do better, and you are trying, Rumple.”  
  
He stared at her for a long time, thinking about what she had said. Then he shook his head slowly, smiling and a look of wonder on his face.  
  
“That's a rather strange way to read my story”, he said.  
  
Belle pecked his lips.  
  
“Maybe it's one you should try to read.”  
  
He pulled her towards him, wrapping her in his arms. When he didn't answer her, she thought he had fallen asleep, but then, after sometime, he whispered:  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
Belle smiled into the darkness. No, loving Rumplestiltskin wasn't always easy.  
  
But if True Love was easy, everyone would have it.

**Author's Note:**

> In the words of G.R.R.M, this one was a bitch. I worked about a week on this, even if it was just going to be a one-shot.  
> But I loved writing it, so I guess it's worth it. Obviously inspired by the line "True, he is no Prince Charming" from Something There in Disney's BatB version.  
> Also I might write this from Rumple's POV, because I keep going back to that.  
> We'll see. Tell me what you think, I hope you like it :)  
> You can also follow me on my tumblr, mynameisginster.tumblr.com.  
> Obviously I own neither Once Upon A Time nor the characters.  
> Oh and not beta'd, also obvious.  
> Now onto chapter 7 of Between Pages!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [No Knight In Shining Armour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1194891) by [mynameisginster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisginster/pseuds/mynameisginster)




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